A Perfect Partner
by ViolaFable
Summary: Hermione tired of being alone and seeing others happy decides to try a dating service. What will happen and who will be her perfect partner?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 1: Desperate**

Sitting in their favourite squishy armchairs in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, the three best friends sat down like they did every Saturday afternoon. While Ron and Harry were playing a game of Wizard's Chess, Hermione was cuddled in her armchair, her nose in a book. Today, however, she wasn't as engrossed in her reading material as she usually was. She was listening to the boys' conversation.

"Harry, you should have seen her – bloody fucking brilliant!"

"Ron, I promise you, she is nothing compared to Tracey…"

_What the devil are they talking about?_

"Lavender takes me all the way. She even swallows," Ron declared.

Did she hear correctly? Were Harry and Ron talking about... _sex?_ Were they crazy? Merlin's balls! There were first years around! Just as Hermione was about to open her mouth, Lavender decided to join the party at the fire. She bit her tongue, knowing the subject would never be broached with Lavender around.

"Won Won!" Lavender exclaimed, falling into his lap. She entwined her fingers in his hair, smiling at him playfully. She started to nibble his ear, all the while whispering softly spoken innuendos.

"Well, I'm off – I really should practice if I expect to beat Slytherin in the next Quidditch match! See you guys later! And, Hermione, don't read too long. I don't think you will want to go ask Madam Pomfrey for a headache potion again," Harry said with a smile as he got up to leave.

Ron did not seem to hear this interaction, as he was otherwise occupied. It wasn't long after Harry left that he and Lavender disappeared as well, probably to go sneak into a forgotten classroom or find a hidden corner. Harry, no doubt, had made his way to the Astronomy Tower, getting many more than a few chaste kisses.

Reflecting on the boys' love lives, Hermione realized that she really was glad that they were happy. After defeating Voldemort the previous year, they finally had the chance of having normal teenage lives. Well, as normal as they could be, based on her definition of normalcy. Nothing seemed normal to Hermione these days.

After leaving the Gryffindor common room, Hermione whispered, "_Pride and Prejudice,_" to the portrait of a clown, which was just a few feet away from the Fat Lady. The clown, smiling while juggling multi-coloured balls, swung open to admit her. She entered the familiar, beautiful room. The walls were a light shade of blue, with white stained furniture against them.

She loved her canopy bed with its light blue, gossamer lace curtains. To one side was a bookcase filled with books, including all her favourite Jane Austen novels. Her bay window, which contained lots of silk cushions in shades of white and blue, looked down on the lake. This was a perfect spot for reading. She sometimes imagined that the castle had made it especially for her. She had her own bathroom, tiled to match her bedroom. The bath was not as big as the one in the Prefects' bathroom, but this one had a scented tap that changed the scent to suit her mood. She also loved the shower, which had the same scented water.

Hermione took her book and attempted to read in her bay window. She stared at the pages, reading and re-reading the same paragraph. The romance novel was making her think about her own love life. Hermione sighed. Her love life currently had no promising future prospects. It only promised to be dull and boring and nothing compared to the novel she was reading. This left her feeling lonely.

Everybody around her was in love. Everybody had that special someone. Harry had Tracey. Ron had Lavender. Ginny had Seamus. Even Albus had Minerva…

Hermione got up and stood before the mirror. Whenever she took the time to look into this particular mirror, it tried to give her tips on how to enhance her 'natural beauties.' She did her best to silence said mirror; she did not like receiving compliments she knew she did not deserve.

She stared at the girl looking back at her. She started by looking at the girl's legs. They looked like normal legs. She saw nothing special. There was nothing spectacular about them. When she turned sideways, her mirror image followed suit – her tummy wasn't flat; it made a small bump, but she wasn't really overweight. She turned, facing the mirror again. Her breasts looked like normal breasts. Her face was plain. She had brown eyes and untameable, brown, curly hair. She didn't wear makeup. It took far too much time to apply in the morning and to take off at night. She needed to study hard; only the best witches were even considered for Potion mistress apprenticeships. And studying to get O's in all her subjects took a lot of time. No, Hermione Jean Granger was just a plain witch. She liked being plain.

_Whom am I kidding? s_he thought, walking to the bed. Surely, _somewhere,_ there must be a wizard for her... Her eyes fell on the _Witch Weekly_ lying hidden underneath a mountain of schoolbooks. She opened it, deciding that maybe there would be a few tips that she might use in order to make herself more attractive. Lavender set great store by this book. She carried it with her as if her life depended on it. Lavender was considered one of the prettiest witches in her year... Perhaps, all of the information she had read was starting to pay off. Suddenly, Hermione felt she should have started earlier. Between studying and fighting Voldemort, however, there was never enough time to think about such things.

_Well, there's no time like the present._

She was busy flipping the pages, nothing striking her as being of particular help in her situation. Then, at the bottom of the page, some tiny advert in purple and green caught her eye…

_**Lonely?**_

_**Looking for your Perfect Partner?**_

_**Look no further! **_

_**Perfect Partner will find one for you!**_

The rest of the ad was lost on Hermione. She was sitting, contemplating the merits of using such a service. What were the chances of someone _else_ actually finding someone you like…? She quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and started working on an Arithmancy calculation to _prove_ that it would be impossible. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and she shoved the papers in her Potions book to hide it.

At the door was Ginny, looking like a wilted Flitterbloom. Not even waiting for Hermione to open the door properly, she rushed in and started explaining this – according to her – very serious problem.

"Hermione, I need your help!" she exclaimed. Rushing in and plopping down on the bed, she started her story without even waiting for Hermione.

"Seamus and I have been dating for a while now – as you know. He is a great wizard. The problem is that he started talking about taking our relationship to the next level. But, Hermione, he thinks I am still a virgin…" She took a breath and carried on. "That would technically not be a problem, but Harry and I already kind of did it." Ginny blushed. "It was very..."

Hermione clasped her hands over her ears.

"STOP, Ginny!" Hermione just managed to keep her voice level. "I do not need to know what happened between you and Harry!"

"Hermione..." Ginny began, "it's just sex, don't worry about it. I mean, everybody does it. Besides, Harry is not the issue here. Seamus is. I want our first time to be special, but I can't seem to think of anything romantic to do."

"Why don't you plan a strip poker themed picnic in the Prefects' bathroom?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed. "No wonder you are the smartest witch of your year! Now, why didn't I think of that? Hermione, you should write a book on dating and stuff! You know so much! You know, I've always wondered who the lucky people were that shagged you. You must be very talented! How can you keep it a secret?"

"Ginny, there are no lucky people, I assure you," Hermione told her friend. If Ginny weren't so preoccupied with her own schemes, she would have noticed the sad look in her friend's eyes.

"Sure, Hermione… You know you can tell me. But being the friend that I am, I respect your wishes about keeping your lovers to yourself…" With that, Ginny got up and left the room, mumbling something of getting to Madam Malkin's for new underwear.

Hermione flopped down on the bed, staring at her canopy. She wondered how wonderful it must be to be able to plan a romantic date with one's boyfriend... Hermione's thoughts drifted, and she fantasized about nice surprises and butterflies in her stomach. Hermione was quickly lost in fantasy and soon fell asleep.

A/N: Flitterbloom: This plant apparently superficially resembles Devil's Snare in appearance, but is non-violent; St. Mungo's healer Miriam Strout mistook the Devil's Snare that killed Broderick Bode for a Flitterbloom (OP22, OP25).

Also a huge thanks to MissyAllyG for her moral support and cheerleading – a heartfelt thank you.

To PotionsMistress23 - Thank you so much for all your help in this story – you really are brilliant.

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 2: Caught**

BANG BANG BANG!

_What is that awful noise?_

BANG BANG BANG!

"Hermione, open this door immediately! You missed breakfast, and we have Potions in five minutes!" boomed Harry's concerned voice.

_Oh, shit! _she thought to herself

"I'm coming!" Hermione flew out of bed, pulled on robes and got down to the door just as Harry was attempting to blow it to bits with his wand.

Storming in, Harry asked, "Hermione, are you okay? Are you ill? You _never_ sleep late! You _usually_ wake _us_ up!"

"I'm fine, Harry. I just had a late night studying."

_Yeah right… dreaming about having a boyfriend does not mean studying. _Hermione tried her best not to look guilty.

"Are you sure? You look a bit pale. You really shouldn't study so hard. One of these days, you are going to become completely burned out. You still look faint. Are you having your period?" Harry was trying to find out what was wrong with his best friend. Being a typical teenage boy, however, he did so with little subtlety. He was worried about her. Hermione was always so happy go lucky that, in Harry's mind, this could be the only excuse for her doing things so out of character.

"Why would you even ask that?" she snapped. Hermione was in no mood to be trifled with.

"Um, Hermione, you overslept, something you never do, and you are grumpy and snappish… Let me know when you are feeling okay again. Then, maybe, we can have a decent conversation," Harry said, walking away further.

_Brilliant, just what I need._

Hermione was lost in thought as she made her way down to the dungeons. At last, she reached her Potions class. This was the _one_ class she actually enjoyed. She had a passion for potion making, even if Snape was never satisfied…

"Miss Granger. How thoughtful of you to grace us with your presence."

_Oh, Shit._

Hermione looked about the room. Everybody was already seated. A murmur ran through the class. This was sensational gossip: Hermione Granger, the perfect student and Head Girl, was late for class.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for being tardy. And if you don't find your seat quickly, it will be thirty!"

Hermione hurried to her seat.

"Settle down. Turn to page 232 of your textbooks. Further instructions have been placed on the board. You have one hour."

Snape stalked around his classroom, his robes billowing around him. He was making sure his instructions were followed to the letter. Potions were dangerous in the hands of nitwits. He considered all students nitwits.

Hermione, flustered at being late, grabbed her Potions textbook out of her bag. Just as she opened it, her copy of _Witch Weekly_ fell to the ground, beside a pair of brightly polished dragon-hide shoes...

_Merlin, help me. What else could go wrong?_

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. First, tardiness, then reading magazines in class. Maybe a detention would serve to remind you about the rules of this school."

Snape Accio'd the magazine and sent it to his desk. "Come see me after class to discuss the particulars of your punishment."

Hermione took out the rest of her Potions equipment, taking care not to catch the eye of her Potions professor again. Making mistakes made her miserable. Hermione Granger, the person who normally earned the House points, lost her House forty points in one class. She was the Head Girl; she was supposed to set an example. She fretted while she worked. Being thus distracted, her potion was not up to her normal standard, and she feared that she would not even get an Acceptable for this effort, something which appalled her so much that she was close to tears.

After handing in her vial, she waited dutifully for the class to be empty. She studied her feet while she waited. No need to let Snape see how upset she was.

"Miss Granger, being an insufferable know-it-all does not give you the right to think that you are above teaching! I hope this detention will serve to remind you that not even brilliant celebrities can read magazines in class. You will report to my classroom at eight to serve your detention." His speech finished, Snape turned and left the room.

Hermione was quiet through lunch. She did not look forward to her detention, but she knew it was deserved. Harry and Ron steered clear, knowing how bad her temper could get when she was in one of those moods. Hermione did not take losing House points very easily.

The rest of the day went smoothly, and she brightened up after Charms. She was the first one to master the _Duro_ charm. Professor Flitwick praised her on the achievement, and the forty points she got for answering questions correctly made up for the ones she lost that morning.

At dinner, she had a good time with her friends. They could see that she not feeling like herself, but they knew how Hermione fretted about schoolwork and studying.

"Did you hear the one about the vampire, the hag and the Flobberworm?" Ron asked.

"Ron, that is a disgusting joke!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Aye, it is, Weasley. And there be ladies present. Mind yer tongue." Seaumus's Scottish accent sounded even worse when he got angry.

"Have you seen the new model Firebolt?" Harry asked.

The topic was thus changed, the argument was forgotten and a lively conversation followed. The friends made jokes, and when they got up to leave, Hermione told the boys, "See you later, guys. I need to go to my detention."

"Sure thing, Hermione. Maybe Snape won't keep you too long," Harry answered.

"That sounds like wishful thinking. You know how he gets. I am sure he gets his thrills from torturing students," Ron said.

"Be that as it may – I need to go or I will be late." With that, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons. She loved her friends. She wished she could tell them about a little idea that was forming in her head, but she knew they would find it silly. She trusted them but not enough to tell them what she was reading about in her _Witch Weekly_…. _Merlin's balls!_ Snape had her _Witch Weekly_ and her calculations!

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Professor Severus Snape was sitting in his cold dungeon classroom. He was musing on the events of his life and the circumstances that led him to this point. He was a bitter man. He knew it.

As far as he could see, there were two people to blame: Tobias Snape and Lily Evans. Severus had no fond memories of growing up. His earliest recollections were of his mother shielding him with her body while his father, drunk past the point of being lucid, beat them with anything on which he could lay his hands. His father took his mother's wand and forbade her from leaving the house. He promised her that if she tried, he would kill Severus. To protect her son, Eileen obeyed her husband.

His Hogwarts letter was a relief. He would finally be able to lead a normal life. When he arrived at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, he was surprised to see the girl he had been allowed to play with, once or twice. He would recognize her anywhere. He remembered the green eyes and striking red hair.

It was natural that he and Lily would become friends; they were both alone. At the end of their third year, it had become clear that she was his only true friend. He remembered it like it was yesterday. He was sitting in Transfiguration when Barkley came in. He was to be escorted to the Headmaster's office...

When Snape entered it, he knew something was wrong. Albus – then, Professor Dumbledore- looked at him with sad blue eyes. The twinkle was gone.

"Mr. Snape, please sit down. Would you like a sherbet lemon?" Albus asked. Severus smiled. Some things never changed. "Severus, I am afraid that I have some bad news. Your father killed your mother this morning, and then he shot himself as well."

Severus shivered as he remembered everything that went through his head. He was upset; he loved his mother. He was relieved; he hated his father. He felt panic; what would happen to him now? He was now truly alone, and he didn't even know if he had relatives.

"We have made arrangements for you to stay at Hogwarts, even during summer holidays. The house in Spinner's End belongs to you now, but you have to be of age before you can go there unsupervised," Albus gently informed him.

He then told her everything. About the abuse, being poor and growing up miserable. How he hated to see his mother hurt. Lily played the sympathetic confidante. By end of fifth year, however, Lily discovered that the opposite sex worshipped the ground she walked on, and she loved her popularity. There were countless times when she left him alone. Malfoy noticed them.

He befriended Severus and taught him the ways of the pure-blood community. Severus's popularity grew in Slytherin House. He made friends, but he still wanted Lily. He loved her.

One moonlit night, the wind rustling the leaves of the trees, he had convinced her to take a stroll down by the lake. When they got beneath their favourite study tree, they sat down. They talked for a while, and then it got quiet. Severus decided that this was his chance, and slowly, nervously he kissed Lily. It was his first kiss.

The reaction was not quite what he expected.

Lily was wiping her mouth furiously, making spitting noises. So much for being a lady. "Severus Tobias Snape, don't you ever do that again! What were you thinking? How could you think that I would even consider you, of all people, in a romantic light? Urgh!" Lily was not so sympathetic anymore.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Severus was baffled.

"It means, you big idiot, that I find that thinking of you in that way makes me want to throw up! Don't you dare touch me again," Lily replied as though she were explaining something stupid to a four year old.

Snape did not like being spoken to as though he were a child. How could she mock him like that?

"I suppose I should have expected no better from a Mudblood," Severus drawled, in his best imitation of Lucious Malfoy. It was the only defense he had.

_Slap._

She stood up and left him right there. That was the last time she spoke to him. He was scorned by the one woman whom he really loved. She decided that his archenemy was her soul mate. Blasted James Potter!

_Perhaps there were three people..._

Eventually, he joined the Death Eaters. Another one of the choices he regretted... Even if he did help to defeat the Dark Lord in the end, Severus still knew what price had been paid. No one knew of the people he tortured until they screamed for mercy. No one knew of the countless Muggle women he watched being raped. No one knew of the children who were Imperiused as slaves, forced to comply with the heinous desires of the Death Eaters. No one knew…

If anybody ever found out, who would have any sympathy for him? Who could love a killer? Nobody would pardon the things he had done.

He wasn't even an attractive man. His hair was so fine that it appeared lank and greasy when left alone. His nose was a bulbous protruding mess in the center of his face, the one and only feature he got from his father. He kept his physique hidden under many layers of clothing. Not only did they hide his multitude of scars, but they softened the blows when he was being tortured. The idea of losing that little bit of extra protection horrified him. He would rather eat a bucket full of doxy eggs.

Lying on his desk was Miss Granger's copy of _Witch Weekly_. He was amazed, really. He never thought of her as someone who took her nose out of a book long enough to realize she was a teenager. But there you go. People always surprise you. He was staring absentmindedly at the article "How to Charm Your Wizard to New Heights," wondering why any wizard would have these types of problems, when his thoughts turned to the idea of whom Miss Granger was trying to charm. Was this merely an academic pursuit?

He could see the witch researching something like that. Typical know-it-all. Even in bed. He smirked at the thought. It was then that a piece of parchment caught his eye. What was this? A love letter? Perhaps notes on the article. He laughed at his own joke.

Opening the parchment, he saw that it was full of complex calculations with a few notes, written in her neat handwriting. Severus realized that she was trying to use Arithmacy to determine the probability of a relationship. How weird can you get? Even he would never stoop to those levels. Imagine…

While returning the sheet to the magazine, something at the bottom of the page caught his eye. It was a purple and green advert.

_**Lonely?**_

_**Looking for your Perfect Partner?**_

_**Look no further! **_

_**Perfect Partner will find one for you!**_

Severus sat staring at the page. An idea was forming in his head.

_Knock. Knock._

Damn, he forgot about the know-it-all serving detention tonight.

"Enter," Severus bit out. How he wished for a glass of Firewhiskey. "On that table are buckets of rat spleens. Clean and bottle them."

Hermione sighed. So this was her punishment? _Wonderful. _Now, her hands were going to smell for the rest of the week. Bloody brilliant, as Ron would say. She made her way to the back of the class and started.

While Hermione was busy, Severus decided to carry on with his thoughts. A dating service. This just might have possibilities. He quickly copied the particulars of an A Frodite. He then surreptitiously closed the copy of _Witch Weekly_ and carried on with grading the essays in front of him.

In the meantime, Hermione contemplated whether or not she could ask for her _Witch Weekly_ back. Snape was not the type of person to read frivolous magazines, was he? No, he was not. She hoped. Otherwise, the bat of the dungeons would have seen her calculations, and she would have never heard the end of it.

After she was through with her assignment, she went up to his desk.

"Sir, I have finished the rat spleens. Is there anything else you would like for me to do?"

Looking up, Severus regarded the witch in front of him. She was dirty and would smell like rats for the rest of the week. He wrinkled his nose.

"You may go, Miss Granger. One would presume that you have learned your lesson. Given your past history, however, I doubt it." He carried on grading, listening for the tell tale slam of the dungeon door, signaling that he could relax.

It didn't come.

"Miss Granger, would you prefer more work?"

Hermione visibly shrank. "No, sir. I was wondering if it would be possible to get my magazine back."

_Why is there such a thing as blushing?_

Severus looked at the witch in front of him. Was she really blushing?

"Miss Granger, take that trash and be gone."

Hermione grabbed the book and fled from the dungeon. Outside, she stopped with a triumphant smile. Her secret was safe. Now, she could relax.

She slowly made her way back to the Head Girl room.

As soon as Severus heard the door slam, he started laughing.

_Silly witch_.

He had a letter to compose. He began to write, giving all the details required. He sent it using his private owl. He hoped it would be worth the ten Galleons...

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Hermione blinked awake. Today was going to be a happy day. Hermione felt as though she did not have care in the world. After an hour in the shower to get rid of the rat smell – the shower obligingly supplied water that did the trick – she felt ready to face the world. She dressed for school, combed her hair and made sure her Head Girl badge was pinned on, whistling a happy tune all the way. When she came out of her door, she met up with Harry and Ron, and the three of them made their way down to breakfast.

They were seated for a while, Ron stuffing his face with bacon and eggs, Harry and Neville arguing the merits of this Quidditch team versus that one and Hermione reading a book, when Lavender made her appearance.

Ron immediately gained extremely well polished table manners, a general knowledge of which few wizards possess. It wasn't long after that Tracey came and sat with Harry, secretly holding his hand underneath the table.

Hermione was watching her friends, feeling distinctly left out. Just what she needed to spoil her day – lovebirds all around her. She watched the faint blush appear on Tracey's neck when Harry moved his hand up her thigh. She wondered how that would feel.

Hermione's mother had never taught her daughter the importance of female subtlety. She never taught Hermione about secret whims and passions. Jane Granger taught her daughter about dignity, about how to wait for the right man and how to keep your legs crossed until you were married. The dangers of not keeping these doctrines were firmly ingrained in Hermione's mind. When she looked at Tracey – now trying her best not to giggle – her mother's voice echoed in her head. "Such a shameful display!" Hermione thought about some handsome person sliding his hand up her thigh and felt ashamed. So much so, in fact, that the mere thought of doing something sexy appalled Hermione so greatly that she blushed where she sat at the table.

She could not imagine herself wearing sexy red underwear with stiletto heels. She blushed deeper when she thought about doing anything like a strip dance or dressing up as a nurse.

"Hermione, are you okay? You seem a little flushed." Harry's concerned voice broke through her thoughts. Why did she have to show her feelings on her face in such an obvious manner?

"What? Yeah, I'm okay," she answered without any real conviction. "On second thought, I think I'll see Madam Pomfrey. I have a terrible headache, all of a sudden."

"You _have_ been reading too much again, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I think so." She got up and left the happy couples to entertain each other, all the while thinking about what she was missing and how she might get it. She suddenly remembered that advert in _Witch Weekly_.

And for once, ignoring the voice in her head that sounded like her mother, Hermione went to her room to start her letter to A Frodite. She took her Galleons and her letter and went in search for Harry.

She found him in the common room, surprisingly enough, doing homework. Tracey must be a good influence. "Harry," she started, "is it okay if I borrow Hedwig to send a letter?"

"Sure thing, Hermione," Harry replied. He did not even look up from his homework.

"Harry, are you doing homework?" Hermione asked. "It must be the cause of the funny weather we are having."

"Ye… No, I was just working on Quidditch strategies for my da- uhm, the game we are practicing for later," Harry stammered.

Smiling knowingly, Hermione replied, "Sure thing, Harry. Enjoy your date!" She left Harry staring after her, running to the Owlery to find Hedwig. She couldn't help it. She loved confusing her friends by playing the know-it-all.

After sending her owl, Hermione made her way back to her room. In all her eighteen years, this was the first thing she had done for herself. This was the first _naughty _thing she had done. She giggled at the thought. Not that it was naughty. But it was something of which she was sure her mother would not approve. And everything she had done so far in her life carried the support of both her parents.

When Hermione entered her room, she was smiling. She had butterflies in her stomach, and after putting on her pyjamas, she lay in bed thinking of all the delicious possibilities. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

A/N: **Duro** - Latin _duro_ meaning "I make hard" ( Deathly Hallows, cast by Hermione while escaping from Death Eaters in Hogwarts.[DH Ch.32])

**A Frodite **is a matchmaker in this story. I chose the name to resemble Aphrodite who, in my opinion, would the perfect person to be a matchmaker. Aphrodite - In Greek mythology, Aphrodite is the goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture. According to Hesiod, she was born when Uranus (the father of the gods) was castrated by his son, Cronus. Cronus threw the severed genitals into the ocean, which began to churn and foam about them. From the aphros ("sea foam") arose Aphrodite, and the sea carried her to either Cyprus or Cythera. Hence, she is often referred to as Kypris and Cytherea. Homer calls her a daughter of Zeus and Dione. After her birth, Zeus was afraid that the gods would fight over Aphrodite's hand in marriage, so he married her off to the smith god Hephaestus, the steadiest of the gods. He could hardly believe his good luck and used all his skills to make the most lavish jewels for her. He made her a girdle of finely wrought gold and wove magic into the filigree work. That was not very wise of him, for when she wore her magic girdle, no one could resist her, and she was all too irresistible already. She loved gaiety and glamour and was not at all pleased at being the wife of sooty, hard-working Hephaestus. Aphrodite loved and was loved by many gods and mortals. Among her mortal lovers, the most famous was perhaps Adonis. Some of her sons are Eros, Anteros, Hymenaios and Aeneas (with her Trojan lover Anchises. She is accompanied by the Graces. Her festival is the Aphrodisiac, which was celebrated in various centers of Greece and especially in Athens and Corinth.

To PotionsMistress23 - A heartfelt thank you

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 3: Plans**

Hermione couldn't wait to get to breakfast. She sat down and looked over the scrumptious food in front of her. She started with muesli and yoghurt and was just in the process of getting some banana muffins when she was startled by the fluttering of hundreds of wings, signalling the arrival of the post. Expectantly, she looked about for some sign that an owl might be looking for her.

She was in luck. A large tawny owl landed in front of her and held out its leg. She quickly untied the letter, and upon seeing the green ink and purple ribbon, she put her letter into her book bag. She couldn't wait to read it, so she grabbed her muffin and practically ran out the door.

She briskly made her way to the lake. Sitting under her favourite tree, Hermione put aside her muffin and took out her letter. She stared at it for a while, unsure of herself. Finally, after mentally berating herself for her stupidity and fear, she opened the letter.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Thank you so much for trusting me to find the perfect wizard for you. First, let me reassure you that all applicants are screened in order to assure that this service is safe. Secondly, let me explain the rules of this service._

_You are not allowed to give your full name to the person writing to you. You may exchange as many letters as you want, but when deciding upon meeting, the agency will only supply you with the particulars of your partner after making sure that both parties are interested._

_Nothing personal which can identify you may be sent in the letters._

_By using this service, you agree to these terms._

_Now, Miss Granger, it pleases me to inform you that we have found you a match!_

_If you would like to correspond, send me an owl, and your private owls will be arranged. Please note that you cannot use another owl to deliver your letters to this person._

_Yours, _

_A Frodite._

Hermione couldn't believe her luck. _Was it possible? In less than a day? _Smiling, Hermione penned her response and got up to go find Harry. She found him in the Great Hall, chatting with Seamus about football. Boys, she decided, only talked about sports and girls, the latter only when they were among other boys and thought no girl was listening.

"Harry," Hermione asked, "may I please borrow Hedwig?"

"Sure thing, Hermione. Oh, and by the way, can you remember which player scored the winning try last season?" Harry inquired.

"Harry – do you remember to whom you are talking? I don't know a thing about sports." Hermione joked.

She hurried off, taking an apple to snack on, on the way to the Owlery. While munching, Hermione thought about the danger of what she was about to do and giggled about how scandalized her mother would look when she found out that her daughter subscribed to a dating service.

Laughing out loud, she sent her letter and made her way back to the castle for her classes that day.

_Dear Mister Snape,_

_Thank you so much for trusting me to find your ideal witch. First, let me reassure you all applicants are screened in order to assure that this service is safe. Secondly, let me explain the rules of this service._

_You are not allowed to give your full name to the person writing to you. You may exchange as many letters as you want, but when deciding upon meeting, the agency will only supply you with the particulars of your partner after making sure that both parties are interested._

_Nothing personal which can identify you may be sent in the letters._

_By using this service, you agree to these terms._

_I have great pleasure in informing you that your partner would like to exchange owls! Included in this mail is a charmed ring. As soon as your letter is finished, tap the ring with your wand, and your private owl will appear. _

_Hope this is a fruitful endeavour!_

_Yours, _

_A Frodite._

Severus sat staring at the letter the house-elves left on his desk. They found him someone already? They expected him to write to a person, knowing nothing about her? How would one go about that? Were these people completely crazy?

Severus straightened in his chair. He was Severus Snape! He was a Slytherin at heart! Slytherins might not be as brave as Gryffindors, but they sure had the same intelligence, and they were most definitely known for their cunning. And this situation did _not_ call for bravery. This was a game of the mind, which, coincidentally, was a Slytherin specialty.

He grinned. He could write to that witch. He wondered what she looked like... He could just imagine a fiery redhead with flashing green eyes, full red lips just waiting to be kissed… Merlin's balls, he was describing Lily Evans! The late Lily Potter, to be precise. If he was going to make a success of this, he would have to forget her completely. No more redheads. Severus Snape was now a worried man. He would be speaking to a witch about whom he knew nothing. He would have to learn to be a gentleman from the start. Women liked romantic things… Roses, candy, poems and such.

Could he, Severus Snape, loner, master of sarcasm and snarky Potions professor, be a romantic gentleman?

That evening, on the other side of the castle, Hermione sat in her bay window. She was wearing her fluffy slippers, loose track pants and a t-shirt. In front of her were her schoolbooks, but she wasn't in the mood for homework. She was waiting to see if there would be a response to her letter.

Leaning back against her pillows, she sat looking at the lake but not really seeing anything. She wondered who this wizard was. Did he have a nice personality? Did they share interests or would he only speak to her about sports? Hermione heartily hoped not.

Just as she was starting to doze off, there was a tap-tap-tap at the window. Looking up, she saw an onyx owl. She opened the window to let it in and was surprised to see that it was carrying two letters.

One was written in green ink, tied with a purple ribbon. This must be one from A Frodite. The other was written on fancy parchment with a black and green border. It was sealed with a dark ribbon. She decided to read A Frodite's letter first.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_As you can see, your partner has written to you! _

_If you were wondering how to respond, included in this letter is a charmed bracelet. When you have finished your letter, touch the bracelet with your wand, and an owl will appear to deliver the letter to your partner._

_Good luck!_

_Yours,_

_A Frodite_

Hermione looked at the bracelet. It was beautiful and made of silver. It had little stones embedded in some of the links, all of them a brilliant green.

With shaking hands, Hermione took her letter and admired the parchment. Thinking about this, she lifted the letter to her nose to inhale a woodsy, spicy, distinctly male fragrance.

It smelled familiar, but bearing in mind her two best friends were both males, she put it off to coincidence. Slowly, she untied the ribbon and opened the parchment. It was covered in small, neat handwriting.

_Dear Miss,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. It is my dearest hope that we can converse in this manner and thus get to know one another._

_I hope to hear from you soon._

_Yours, _

_SS_

SS? Hermione wondered who Mr. SS could be. He sounded like a gentleman. Her mom always said that you could tell a gentleman apart from other men by the way he spoke. _But he hasn't spoken._ This was a letter, but surely, it could do just as well?

Hermione sighed. This meant that she would have to reply to this letter. What would she even say? She had certainly rushed into this. She didn't do _any_ proper planning. Hermione started to panic. Should she reply now? Wouldn't that seem desperate? _Wasn't_ _she_ desperate? Would it be a bad thing if he _knew_ she was desperate? That, her logical brain decided, would be bad.

But how would it seem frantic to answer such a charming letter, immediately? He seemed so nice. Hermione smiled to herself. This was exciting. This was something new, something special.

As she sat by the open window, a light breeze ruffled her hair and the lake shimmered in the twilight. She could feel happy for now. She had a secret. And no one was going to find out. She took out her jasmine scented parchment and started composing her letter. This had to perfect. As was her habit, Hermione sat with her quill in her mouth, contemplating how to start and what to say. His letter wasn't too long, so her reply would be short as well. She decided, all in all, that he could take the lead in the letter writing – as a gentleman should. Hermione knew she had to hurry; her friends or anxious students might need her attention at any time. Taking a deep breath, she pulled all of her Gryffindor courage together and began to write.

_Dear SS,_

_Thank you for your letter. I am having a good day and hope yours has been good as well. I would very much like to talk to you through letters and get to know you. _

_Is there anything in particular that you would like to know?_

_Yours,_

_HJG_

There. She read over the letter again, making sure that it was perfect to the last detail. She rolled up the scroll and tied it with her light blue ribbon, which made a neat little bow. She sat and stared at the letter, smiling contently. She tapped her bracelet with her wand, and a snowy white owl appeared. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought it was Hedwig.

The owl held out its leg, and she tied the letter to it. As soon as she was done, it flew away. She was profoundly satisfied. She decided to go to the common room to spend some time with her friends.

Ron and Harry were busy joking, as they always were, by the time she got to them. Transfiguration homework had always been a great source of entertainment for them. They had started learning about transfiguring themselves into inanimate objects. This was a very advanced branch of Transfiguration, but one that would certainly come up in their N.E.W.T.s.

Harry thought he was an expert on the subject, having seen Professor Slughorn turn into an overstuffed chair when he and Dumbledore went to recruit the professor. Not that it gave him any advantage. By the end of the evening, only one person successfully transfigured into an inanimate object, and that was Hermione Granger. Ginny longingly told her that her object was very beautiful and she would get extra marks for the additional touches. Hermione beamed. Her inanimate object was a blue vase containing a single white rose.

Luckily for Hermione, she had to concentrate in while practicing – otherwise she would have gone mad with anticipation. As soon as she had time to think, Hermione's mind started to wander. Would he like her letter? Would he respond quickly? What would he think about her for writing the letter?

All these questions should have driven her crazy, but Hermione loved them.

Harry noticed his friend smiling, though he did not comment on it. He was just glad that Hermione was smiling again. And contrary to popular belief, he was not stupid enough to say anything and spoil the surprise.

Serverus Snape was in a foul mood. He did not sleep well. No, that would mean that there had to be some sort of sleep involved. He did not even close his eyes. At the present moment, he was sitting behind his desk, glaring at his first year students. He gave them an extremely simple potion as the assignment today: Boil-Curing Solutions. He sat with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. After this class, he would have to get a headache-relieving potion, otherwise there was no way he could face the third years this afternoon.

BOOM.

Severus sighed. It was just not his day. He slowly looked up to see Amelia Creevey covered in boils and very near to tears. He did not have the patience to deal with a blubbering first year Gryffindor this particular morning.

"Miss Creevey, did you add the porcupine quills before or after you took the cauldron off the fire?" Severus asked in what he thought was a very calm voice.

Amelia, if possible, seemed to grow smaller before his eyes. "After, sir."

"And, Miss Creevey," Severus continued, "what does your Potions manual say?"

"Before, sir," Amelia answered her professor, her voice quivering.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for a lack of concentration and endangering your fellow students!" Severus needed to impress on his students the dangers of Potions making. It was a hazardous subject.

A tapping noise at the window caught his attention. There was a snowy white owl waiting to come in. He magically opened up the window. It landed on his desk, waiting patiently. To whom could this owl belong?

"Has anybody else been injured in the explosion?" Severus asked his students. When none replied, he said, "Very well, Miss Bones, help Miss Creevey to the Hospital Wing. The rest can clear out; you won't be able to work with all this green smoke."

The students stared at one another. Time off from Potions? Nobody asked any questions, and his classroom cleared even quicker than when the bell rang. Severus chuckled. Being the bastard Potions professor had its advantages.

And now, for the owl. It was beautiful. When it came nearer, it held out its leg. Tied to it was a piece of parchment neatly rolled up and held closed by a soft blue ribbon.

To whom could this belong? As soon as the parchment was delivered, the owl turned and flew out the window. As he watched it, a soft floral scent caught his attention. He held the parchment to his nose and smelled. The fragrance was quite alluring, and he closed his eyes dreamily. Definitely jasmine. Being a Potions master, he had developed a keen sense of smell, and jasmine just happened to be one of his favourites.

He slowly undid the bow. He realized his heart was pounding. Taking a deep breath, he opened up the parchment and started to read his _love-letter._ Severus started. Did he just think the word love-letter? Shaking his head, he read the neat handwriting on the short note replying to his letter.

The letter was well worded, short and to the point but also less formal and more sweet. He could read it in his mind and picture a perfect lady writing the letter. He gave a sigh of relief. He was worried he might have ended up with some air headed girl. This woman sounded as though she could hold her own in a conversation. Severus did not like dumb, silly witches. He looked at the signature. HJG. So, the witch had a middle name. He could imagine all the fun he could have with that…

He was sitting, smiling. Maybe this letter writing was not such a bad idea, after all. This might, in fact, just turn out to be a very, very good thing. He picked up his quill and started to write his response.

AN: Hope you are enjoying the story! Please read and review! PotionsMistress23 please take a bow – you are awesome.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 4: The Conspiracy**

"At this rate, it will be ten years before we get to the good parts, Minerva!" Albus exclaimed. "They are going so slowly about this business that one would think that two imbeciles were talking not two masterminds!"

"Albus, I told you, matters of the heart have their own timing. And short from giving them both a love potion, I do not see a way in which you could speed up this process. Unless there is still another level of magic you have discovered?" Minerva inquired.

"Sadly not, my dear, but you must admit that the plan, so far, is one of my more brilliant ideas. I was just hoping to get them together before the year runs out." Albus sighed. He loved planning and caucusing. He needed Minerva's help to get Severus and Hermione together. He also needed to play the loving father. If Minerva ever found out about the Unbreakable Vow he made to Eileen – He shuddered.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. He was sitting in her living room the day he went to ask why they hadn't replied to Severus' Hogwarts letter.

Eileen's reason was simple – she had no money to send her son to school. And that her husband threatened her when he saw her son had magical powers. She was afraid that he would kill them both if he found out.

Albus had a solution: he would take some of the money the board of governors set aside for cases such as these and offer Severus a full scholarship.

But Eileen knew her son was proud. And he would never be happy knowing he was a complete charity case.

So, she made him vow never to tell Severus how it came to be that he got to go to Hogwarts, that he would look after Severus if anything happened to him, and that he would follow wizarding tradition and find him a pretty but clever wife. So, to fulfil the vow, he had been waiting for the perfect witch to arrive. He had been keeping a close eye on all the Ravenclaws, sure that the _clever _witch would come from that House.

But the moment Hermione Granger landed in his school, he knew she would be the one. Now, he just had to have them fall in love. He knew he was cutting it close, as Hermione had turned seventeen just after the start of this term, but all was fine with regards to the law. He thought the idea of Hermione and Severus together was perfect. He could just see the Snape babies running around.

Albus loved Severus like a son. Ever since the boy's father killed his mother, he and Minerva became the parents the boy never had. And Severus had suffered so much. He wanted to see him happy.

Albus was a great wizard. He feigned death and defeated two dark villains in his time. But through it all, he always had love on his side. He was a great believer in it. His theory was that it strengthened magic in its most basic form, and his acceptance of this doctrine helped him to achieve far greater things than those of which most wizards can even dream. And this was the lesson he wanted both Severus and Hermione to learn.

"Penny for your thoughts." Minerva broke the silence.

"Minerva, you have to help me speed this up. I have employed as much magic as I dare so far – the advertisements that only they would notice required a fair bit of magic. And neither of them is stupid. Employ your womanly senses and help me make this perfect," Albus replied

Minerva sat thoughtfully for a moment. "How do people normally fall in love, Albus?"

Albus looked at her, not sure how to reply or of what she was thinking. "What do you mean?"

"People fall in love when they spend time together, get to know one another and then realize that they cannot live without each other. Take us, for example. I was waiting for five years for you to notice me. I was so young and unsure back then. I grew frustrated - as all young people do – and decided that if you didn't notice me by the end of year number five, I would leave. I did my best to spend an awful lot of time with you planning balls, arranging Quidditch matches, planning the timetables and just checking my lesson plans. You just carried on as if you noticed nothing. And you would never have said anything if I hadn't resigned to go work at another school," Minerva replied, her eyes twinkling mysteriously.

"Ah, but, my dear, we must hope that Severus is not a stupid as I was," he agreed.

"Then there must be a way in which they have to spend time together… one they will both enjoy and one in which they will learn to depend on one another. Albus, I might just have an idea. Pour another glass of Firewhiskey, and let's get to work." She got up and cleared his desk. Minerva loved to strategize; it normally ended very satisfactorily for all parties included.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Severus sat at his desk, pieces of crumpled parchment lying around him. He was frustrated. He hated being stuck. He could not quite decide upon how to respond to his letter from his- what should he call her? Romantic interest? No, not yet, better stick to acquaintance. He sighed. He was normally a master of words and innuendos. He could play around with and manipulate people with only the sound of his voice. He was a master spy; he fooled the Dark Lord. He was one of the world's most acclaimed Potions masters. And yet, he was struggling like a school boy to write a letter.

He was working himself into a tiff when Fawkes appeared. Blasted bird! It was a summons from Albus. He sighed. Now, he would be treated to an afternoon of tea and lemon drops.

He stood and Flooed Albus.

_Better get this over with._

"You were looking for me, Headmaster?" he asked irritably. He walked into the office and flopped down on one of the squishy armchairs.

"Severus, my boy! Always so formal! I was just looking forward to a little chat," Albus said, his eyes twinkling.

_Dammit, this can't be good!_

"And what would we have to talk about, old man?" Severus inquired. "As you know, I have an extremely busy time ahead, restocking the school's potion supply. Slughorn depleted all of them."

If it was possible, Severus was sure that those blue eyes were twinkling even more. He masked his face. Albus should not know how _scared _he was when he was in this mood. It usually meant more work or some hare-brained scheme that was bound to end up causing someone misery. Severus shivered.

Albus was so delighted. Minerva was indeed correct when she said he would use his work as an excuse.

"Severus, I know how hard you work and everything that you do around this school. Unfortunately, I cannot offer you more compensation for your services, but I can do something to help with your workload. You seem tired these days, and Minerva and I worry about you," Albus said.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Severus was now openly worried. This did not bode well at all.

"The Hogwarts board of governors has deemed it necessary to appoint an apprentice to the Potions master of this school, as it will become a compulsory subject to all students from next year on. This is applicable to years one through seven," Albus stated in his Wizengamot voice.

_Is he crazy?_

Severus shot up from his chair and started pacing. Not only would he have to do all of his own work, he would have to teach some _imbecile_ how to become a Potions master as well! He would have to double check everything! He would have no time for personal research! Or his new project, for that matter. This was an absolute invasion of his privacy. Despicable behaviour. These _decisions_ were supposed to make his workload lighter. What did they know of being a Potions master? No, this was the worst news of his life! More work – more nitwits!

"Albus, how and when was this decided?" he asked.

"The board of governors saw some research done at Durmstrang about brewing potions to increase the levels of concentration of students and its being thus beneficial to all other branches of magic. The theory is that improved concentration will help all students achieve better N.E.W.T results and produce more _capable _wizards and witches to enter the job market," Albus answered.

"No! I will not do this! This is absurd. Teachers have always had the discretion to decide which students were allowed. This is not right, Albus! Do you even know how much more of my time this will take?" He sighed.

Severus paced up and down in front of the Headmasters desk. He was fuming and furious. He did not like this one bit. But maybe, he might be able to grade the first year papers. That was an idea. He would also now have some time to devote to his other interests. He stopped pacing and flopped down in one of the chairs facing the Headmaster.

Albus was watching Severus closely. He was thinking about this. He was considering it. This was good.

Severus was making a mental list of all the mundane jobs he could let this imbecile do so that he could start on a new research project. He might even publish his findings, this time.

"_Headmaster, _although I want it on record that I think this is an extremely preposterous idea, I will advertise for the position, immediately." Severus sneered.

"Severus," Albus's tone warned him that was not all, "your apprentice has been appointed already. The apprentice's chamber will be directly next to yours in order to allow access to your private lab and inventory. Your office space will be enlarged to accommodate the new apprentice. The two of you will be sharing living quarters in the form of a parlour, as well."

If Severus was not mistaken, the old man seemed entirely too enthusiastic about this. But he knew Albus cared about him, and an apprentice would ease his workload tremendously. When he eventually got the imbecile trained to his standards. Not that he would ever admit it.

"I shall put him to work immediately, then," he answered on his way to the fireplace.

"Severus, the apprentice will arrive at eight tonight. Please try to be nice." With that, Albus turned and disappeared through a door in his study. Severus stared at the spot where the Headmaster had been just minutes ago. Shaking his head, he climbed into the fireplace. So much for his dramatic exit.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Hermione was enjoying her Transfiguration lesson. The extra work she and the others did last night really paid off. She adored being the star student, and life was brilliant when it got as good as this.

"Miss Granger, I need a few moments of your time, please, if you would say after class?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Hermione was shocked. There was no reason to be asked to stay behind. Unless McGonagall wanted to speak to her about her detention with Snape.

"Yes, professor."

What was the_ matter _with her? She wasn't used to being in trouble all the time. This tarnished the fantastic reputation that she worked so hard to keep spotless. Well, spotless where Snape wasn't concerned. The rest of the lesson flew by as Hermione dreaded the conversation with her Head of House. The bell rang, and the class emptied noisily; the gossip about the Head Girl being in trouble again would have spread through the school by the end of lunch. Harry and Ron shot her questioning glances as they left the room, but they knew better than to question Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Granger, please close the door," Professor McGonagall instructed.

Hermione closed the door and waited for further instructions from her professor, obviously quite nervous.

"Hermione, dear, have a seat, please." Minerva indicated a chair that she made appear out of thin air. "How was your day?"

Hermione was dumbstruck. She did not expect this. "Err, very good thanks, and yours, professor?" she inquired politely.

"Would you like a cup of tea and a biscuit?" Minerva asked. She was enjoying herself. Her student had no idea where this was leading.

"Yes please, professor. Thank you very much," Hermione answered, still quite curious. Tea and biscuits?

"Very well, my dear. Excellent, in fact. Hermione, am I right when I say that your career choice after Hogwarts is to become involved in the field of Potions?" McGonagall conjured a teapot and served tea. She offered milk and sugar, but Hermione preferred her tea without any.

"Yes, professor. That is correct." Hermione relaxed. This was just a normal school talk. No worries, then. Hermione settled in her chair more comfortably.

"Well, my dear, you do realize that it would require an apprenticeship under a Potions master for at least three years?" Professor McGonagall continued, dunking her biscuit into her tea.

"Yes, professor. That is the one difficulty for which I still do not have a solution. I've always gotten good grades in Potions, but I have yet to find an apprenticeship," Hermione answered.

"Hermione, am I correct in saying that currently you have Outstandings in all of your subjects?" The professor wanted confirmation of the fact, even though she was pretty clued up with all the staff gossip.

"Yes, professor. I work very hard." Hermione blushed.

"Hermione, if Hogwarts offered you an apprenticeship would you take it?" The professor smiled.

"Yes, of course, professor! It would be insanely stupid of me not to take it!" Hermione replied.

"Well then, I am glad, my dear. The position is yours. You will be writing your N.E.W.T.s in one week. Please vacate your current Head Girl room, as I will later show you to your staff quarters. And dear, please call me Minerva. We are colleagues now." Minerva smiled.

Hermione was shocked. Then confused. Then she smiled. And then panic settled in.

"N.E.W.T.s in a week? I will have to study during all of my free hours if I need to keep up my grades! Perhaps I'll have to skip meals and stay in the library-" she squeaked.

"You are excused from all lessons from this point forward. I will need to speak to Albus about getting a new Head Girl. Now, go tell Harry and Ron, as I am sure they are fretting over what is going on. I will meet you outside the Great Hall after dinner to show you to your chambers." Minerva smiled. As Hermione was leaving, Minerva made her way to the fire. Albus would be thrilled. Their plans were falling into place perfectly. She wondered how his discussion with Severus had gone.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Hermione rushed to the common room to find Harry and Ron seated in front of the fire. They were having a whispered conversation about how unfair it was of Snape to go talk to Professor McGonagall about Hermione's detention.

"Hermione, there you are! What did Professor McGonagall want? Is everything alright?" Harry asked, eying her, not sure if the flushed look was something good or bad.

"I have to give up my Head Girl position," Hermione stated.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "This is so unfair! It was only one detention! They can't do this! Harry, we need to go speak to them! Tell them it's not Hermione's fault! We need to let them know how unfair that greasy git is!"

"I'll go speak to Professor Dumbledore! He knows how Snape feels about us. This is even way below his standards of nastiness!" Harry got up in his anger.

"No wait, guys! I promise this is good news!" Hermione beamed at them.

"How can giving up your Head Girl position be good news?" Ron was confused.

Harry sank slowly into his chair, looking at Hermione. "It's no use telling us that he is a professor and we should respect him. But tell us what's going on, Hermione."

"I have been offered and apprenticeship at Hogwarts. I write my N.E.W.T.s in a week, and then I will no longer be a student, so my position will need to be filled by someone else," Hermione recited, as if she were quoting a textbook.

"That is so unfair! I will kill him when I get- Wait... what apprenticeship?" Ron was starting to grasp what was said.

"_That, _you will have to wait and see. I have to go pack my things. See you at dinner, boys!" With those words, Hermione left the boys, not really knowing what just happened.

Hermione entered her room. She was sad that she was leaving it. She walked along, running her fingers across her light blue gossamer curtains. She turned and looked at her favourite window seat. She sighed. No room in the dungeons could ever be as light and pleasant as the one she was leaving. She shrunk all her books and magically packed her trunk, making sure the room was left in a pristine condition.

The house-elves would probably clean up again, but she didn't believe in leaving a place dirty for someone else to find. She flopped down on the bed, staring at her canopy, as she savoured her last moments in _her _room.

As she daydreamed about all the adventures she had up till now, she heard a tapping noise. Sitting up, she saw the onyx raven at her window. She almost forgot about her gentleman in all the excitement.

She opened her window and relieved the bird of its letter. It was the same decorated parchment enveloped in the woodsy smell.

_Dear HJG,_

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
>Admit impediments. Love is not love<br>Which alters when it alteration finds,  
>Or bends with the remover to remove:<br>O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;<br>It is the star to every wandering bark,  
>Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.<br>Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
>Within his bending sickle's compass come:<br>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
>But bears it out even to the edge of doom.<br>If this be error and upon me proved,  
>I never writ, nor no man ever loved.<em>

_When we write to one another, it is to get to know the other person. This poem is included for two reasons. The first being that it's one of my favourite past times, to read poetry. The second is in a hope that we will achieve a marriage of true minds._

_I hope your day was filled with fruitful endeavours, and I wish you night filled with peaceful dreams._

_Yours faithfully,_

_SS_

AN: This sonnet is Sonnet 116 Let me not to the marriage of true minds.

Shakespeare's sonnet 116, first published in 1609. It is about eternal and unchanging love and has been cherished in the past four hundred years for its hopeful and promising note. Its structure and form are a typical example of the Shakespearean poet begins by stating he should not stand in the way of true love. Love cannot be true if it changes for any reason. Love is supposed to be constant, through any difficulties. In the sixth line, a nautical reference is made, alluding that love is much like the North Star to sailors. Love should not fade with time; instead, true love lasts forever. When it says, "Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom," Shakespeare is saying that love is timeless, and only death can do it part. – Wikipedia

PotionsMistress23 – thanks a million!

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 5: When life gets complicated**

Hermione sighed as she folded her letter. This was so romantic. So new. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and suddenly, she could conquer the world. She folded open the letter and read it again. She didn't know there were other people in the magical world that enjoyed Muggle literature.

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
>Admit impediments.<em>

Hermione realized that SS was trying to tell her he will want to get to know her. _Intimately._ She flushed bright red as she thought about the implications. Ignoring the goose bumps that were appearing on her arms, she steadied herself. There was no need to be afraid. They wouldn't meet unless they both agreed to it. She was safe. Besides, who knew if it would ever get to _that_ point? Maybe after two more letters, she will realize that he is a dumb sports fanatic who can't have a decent conversation.

She put her letter in her book bag and turned to leave her room. She looked around one more time. She had a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. Blinking back tears, she closed the door firmly. She straightened her back and resolutely walked away from her childhood, not even realizing the significance of the moment.

When Hermione entered the Great Hall, she quickly scanned the crowd to see where Harry and Ron were sitting. They were in their usual spot, waiting for her to begin stuffing their faces. Oddly, they were alone.

"Hermione! All packed and ready to go?" Harry asked as she slid into a seat next to him. Just as she sat, Ron grabbed the bowl of beef stew and began piling it on his plate.

"Hermione's always ready for everything. But I would still like to know what apprenticeship you signed up for," Ron said between mouthfuls of food.

"It must be Transfiguration! That is Hermione's best subject, and she has always been a favourite of McGonagall," Harry replied.

"It could be Charms, as well! Remember those canaries Hermione sent after me? She is a master at Charms!" Ron argued.

"No way, man, it will be Transfiguration," Harry said. "At least now, you don't have to listen to a word that greasy git says. You will be a staff member, meaning you will have the same authority he has. Wait! You can now supervise our detentions, Hermione!"

"Yeah, then we can have a nice break and get away with not doing homework. I just decided that I wouldn't mind serving detention every night if that were the case," Ron chimed in.

Hermione shook her head and smiled at her two friends. No point in bursting their bubbles yet.

The din of the conversation became softer as people started to leave after finishing dinner. Hermione didn't have much to eat; she was too excited. She kept throwing covert glances at the staff table. Professor McGonagall was laughing merrily at a joke professor Flitwick told her. Professor Sinistra was talking to Professor Sprout in low whispers. Professor Snape was sitting, staring at his food thoughtfully. She wondered how he felt about her being his apprentice.

He didn't seem too perturbed, so she assumed he accepted it. Because she was so lost in thought, she startled when Professor McGonagall spoke next to her.

"Are you ready, Hermione?"

"Sorry, professor, I was lost in thought. Yes, I have packed all my things and am ready to move to my new quarters," Hermione replied.

"It happens, dear. You do have a lot to think about. Now, if you will follow me," she said, gesturing for Hermione to follow her.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Severus was sitting in his office. It was five to eight, and he could feel himself getting more irritated by the second. How can a Potions apprentice be late? It was one of the fundamentals of brewing! Every little thing had to be precise.

He would murder the man as soon as he stepped through the door. He got up and started pacing. Then he sat down again. Pacing was a sure way to get himself worked into a snit, and he promised Albus he would be nice. Well, as nice as he could be.

Suddenly, Severus's spy senses were on full alert. There was a soft, grinding sound, followed by a squeak and a bang. Severus sat looking at the source of the noise. It was right next to his fireplace. Slowly, he lifted his wand.

In front of him, a door appeared. Just like that. Still, Severus watched it. This was not normal. Since when did Hogwarts go sprouting random doors? He got up slowly, keeping his eyes on the door. He was stalking to the door, wand lifted, ready for action when…

_Knock knock._

Severus nearly jumped through the mysterious door. Who the bloody hell was bothering him _now_?

He walked to the door and yanked it open – the most evil sneer he could muster on his face. Standing looking at him were Minerva and that bloody know-it-all. What was going on? Surely, Minerva must know he was waiting for his new apprentice? This was wasting his time, and the stupid nitwit was late.

"Severus, how are you tonight? Glad to see you keeping up that façade of being properly bothered all the time. I am sorry to interrupt. We won't take up too much of your time." She stood looking at him.

Severus stared back.

"Severus, I am dying for a cup of tea – would you mind?" Minerva moved past him.

Severus glared at her back as she stepped inside. "Well, are you planning on standing in the corridor the whole evening, Miss Granger?"

Hermione started and quickly stepped into the office. Severus closed the door with a slam and turned around. What he saw made him stop in his tracks. His office had grown.

It was bigger. And standing to the one side, surrounded by bookshelves containing books that did not belong to him, was a desk with _pink_ accessories.

"Minerva, stay back. The castle is doing weird stuff," Severus bit out. Pink? The damn castle must be confused.

"Severus, have a seat. You are acting strangely," Minerva told him soothingly.

"I am not acting strangely, you old woman! There appeared a mysterious door - I am not sure what is behind it or if it's safe - and the castle has gone barmy! It put pink in my room! My room, Minerva! Pink!" Severus yelled.

"Well, why don't you check out the door while I show Miss Granger around," Minerva suggested.

"I'll do that, yes," Severus answered. He started stalking away and abruptly pulled open the door. He went into battle stance – maybe Fluffy was hiding behind the door. Who knew?

What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack. It was a bedroom. A beautiful, soft bedroom. It had light cream carpets and cream lace curtains with a dusky rose-pink trim. It contained a canopy bed as well as an abundance of bookshelves.

It was bright, warm and sunny. How could a room in the dungeons be this sunny? He walked to the window. It contained a window seat that had - well, in his opinion – too many cushions. They were all made of silk and were in varying shades of _that _colour.

Severus Snape was now a confused man. He walked out again, ready to start swearing at the castle for being this preposterous. He would have to speak to Albus. It wasn't even April Fools' Day. He was sure Albus would have fits of laughter when he saw Severus's reaction. He looked at the clock. It was quarter past eight. The nitwit was late.

He then realized that Minerva and Miss Granger were still in his parlour. He looked at them – sharing a cup of tea and having a conversation.

"Severus – is the room safe?" Minerva enquired.

"Quite. I will speak to Albus about setting it right, immediately. I am sure he enjoyed his joke. Now, if you will excuse me, I am late for an extremely important appointment," Severus stated. It was a clear dismissal. One which Minerva completely ignored.

"So, Hermione, tell me a bit about your research in transfiguring potions?" Minerva asked Miss Granger.

Severus shook his head. That was impossible. Everyone knew that one could not transfigure potions. The ingredient bindings were too volatile.

_Knock knock._

Severus sighed with relief. His apprentice was here. Now, he could get rid of the women and start torturing his new nitwit.

Severus yanked open the door. In front of him stood Albus. Alone.

"Severus, my boy! Glad to see you are enjoying your evening!" Albus said as he stepped past him.

Now Severus Snape was a clever man, but standing there as he was, he was dumbfounded.

"Ah, Minerva – you arrived before me. I take it all went well on your side, as I see Miss Granger is present," Albus said. He flopped down in one of the chairs.

"Oh no, this will never do. Too hard, Severus. He got up, and with a wave of his wand, the high back chairs that Severus enjoyed, because his guests were uncomfortable and didn't stay too long, were replaced by soft lush easy chairs in a forest green.

Albus sat down again. "This is much better. I must say, Severus, I like the new decorations. They blend nicely with the green."

"They are not my decorations, Albus," Severus snapped. "And would someone be so kind and please enlighten me as to what is going on?"

Albus sighed. But he guessed this was as nice as Severus could be. But he promised. At least Miss Granger – Hermione – was used to his temper tantrums.

"Master Snape, allow me to introduce your new Potions apprentice, Apprentice Granger," Albus replied formally.

Minerva sat watching Severus's face with what could only be described as glee.

It was like watching a movie. First, there was astonishment, followed by anger. His face turned from white to red to white again. If Minerva imagined really hard, she could hear an orchestra in the back.

Severus bowed. "Apprentice Granger."

Hermione returned with a curtsy. "Master Snape."

"Now that the introductions are out of the way, we can get to the formalities. Severus, Hermione will be your apprentice for twenty four months. In the first twelve months, she is to be ready to take over the first through third years. During her second year, she will have to provide a thesis supporting a Master level in Potions as well as be able to teach students up to seventh year. As of this moment, Hermione is no longer a student at this school. She will be recognized as a full staff member with all the privileges that staff members have. We will give her a week to prepare for her N.E.W.T.s, which she will be sitting next week, Saturday. She will be allowed to study full time. Her apprenticeship hours are from seven in the morning until eleven at night. She is allowed to oversee your detentions as well as grade your papers. Welcome, Professor Granger," Albus concluded his speech.

Severus sat staring at the old man. He was officially nutters. But he would speak to him afterwards. There would be no need to upset Miss Granger just yet. So he smiled and said, "Welcome, Professor Granger. I trust this relationship will be beneficial on many levels. Albus, if I may, I would like to discuss my December leave. Can we move this discussion to your office?"

Minerva smiled an encouraging smile to Hermione, said goodnight to all and followed Albus and Severus out the door.

Hermione only now realised she had officially started her job. She was grown up. She was earning money and had a title. She liked the sound of Professor Granger. She looked around while she sat. Damn, Snape would be pissed if he realized she was alone in his quarters.

Hermione's eyes widened. She was living with Snape.

_Shit_.

AN: PotionsMistress 23 – you really are the best!

cat_named_dog– this one is for you!

Please review – it makes this author have warm fuzzy happy days!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 6: It can't get worse**

A sudden noise startled Hermione from where she sat on the couch being perplexed about living with Snape. She cocked her head. The sound was coming from her bedroom. She got up and slowly opened the door. She nearly screamed when a pair of big, tennis ball green eyes stared back at her.

"Evening, Miss. I be Rosie. I am being Miss Hermione's house-elf. I be looking after Miss while Miss be teaching the school children. I unpacked Miss Hermione's clothes and books and lighted fire for cosiness. I know the Miss likes cosiness. If Miss needs anything, just calls Rosie and Rosie will come. Rosie is a good elf. Miss will see," a tiny high pitched voice greeted her.

"Good evening, Rosie. Thank you for all the trouble." Hermione replied. She was stunned at this little creature.

"Is no trouble, Miss. Rosie says goodnight!" And with that and a pop, Rosie disappeared.

Hermione stood all alone in her room. She was tempted to pinch herself. She was a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was going to be a Potions mistress. She had a secret correspondent.

She smiled. Life was good. She heartily hoped it would stay that way.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

"Now, Severus, before you start, I will hear no objections with regards to Professor Granger," Albus stated as soon as they entered his office.

"That's just one of my concerns, Albus. You gave her the title of Professor," Severus stated as he slammed the door.

"Severus, I may have allowed you certain leeway while being at this school, more so than the other professors, but I must remind you that I am still the Headmaster of this school. I do have my reasons for doing it, and it remains my privilege to decide whether I will discuss it with you," Albus replied calmly while moving in behind his desk.

"You might be the Headmaster of this school, but she is my apprentice!" Severus replied from the other side of the desk. "I will decide what is in her best interest."

Albus had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. Minerva was a genius.

"Be that as it may, she is my employee, as are you! You know how students are and how they push their luck. They will think she is still one of them. The only way I can give her power to assert herself is to give her the title. She will need guidance, Severus. She is so naïve." Albus planted the following seed. "I trust you to help her adjust to her new position."

Severus bit back a retort. The old fool had a point. A good one at that. It would not do to make her seem weak, as it would reflect badly on him. He would not choose an apprentice who was insipid. He had his reputation to uphold in the Potions community.

But then there were also the students. He would have to tread carefully.

"Pink, Albus?" he asked instead.

"I had no control over that. You see, Severus, the castle changes to accommodate the people who live in it. Take the Sorting every year as an example. We never know how many students will be in which House, yet the rooms are always labelled with enough beds in the proper House colours. It even adjusts the sizes of the bathrooms to accommodate everyone. My guess is that the castle wanted to remind you that you are now sharing living quarters with a female," Albus said, biting his lip again. Oh, he was going to enjoy himself.

Severus turned into a statue. The amount of profanities coursing through his mind was evident on his face. He was living with Hermione. Fuck.

Without a word, he got up and left Albus, whose eyes were twinkling like mad ; he was toasting himself with a Firewhiskey.

This would make for some entertainment.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

After Hermione familiarised herself with her room and where Rosie hat put all her things, she decided it was time for a shower. Then, she could get started on her N.E.W.T.s. She gathered her things and made her way to the bathroom.

This bathroom was amazing. She was once again astonished at the perks of being a staff member.

The bathroom contained two basins with golden taps, each with a huge, gilded mirror in front of it. Hermione moved closer to inspect the intricately carved wood. She waited for the mirror to make a comment, but silence was all that greeted her. She put down her things and turned around. She was planning to take a shower, but the bathtub looked delicious. It was a white Victorian style tub, standing on golden feet, with two golden taps and a heated towel railing. The one tap appeared to be the same as the one in her old room, but she had no clue what the other one did, and she was dying to find out.

That was, until the shower caught her eye. It had nozzles placed all along the walls in a type of a zig-zag pattern. It was similar to the ones used in Muggle spas. The shower, though, had only one tap. But the thought of being massaged all over by water sounded heavenly.

So, Hermione undressed herself and got into the shower. As soon as the door closed, she was hit with water at exactly the right temperature, smelling like roses.

Hermione liked roses well enough, but they weren't her favourite. As she stood, she tried to remember the properties of rose, but her mind went blank as she started to relax.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Severus returned to his quarters. It was a long day, and he was tired. He wanted to take a shower and nurse a Firewhiskey while reading one of his books. He was musing about which play to read when he walked into the bathroom. He muttered a spell, and his robes fell off. His hand was on the door handle when an odd smell caught his senses.

Rose. Strange smell. It was used in the most potent love potions, as it was one of the strongest natural aphrodisiacs one could find.

Hermione was just busy shampooing her hair when some soap got into her eyes. It stung a lot, but she learned that if she just got her eyes closed it would stop in a moment. She felt a gust of air followed by…

"Fuck."

Severus stared at the naked witch in front of him. He was rooted to the spot. His brain was telling him to turn around and get the hell out of there.

"Who's there?" Hermione asked. She couldn't open her eyes just yet, but she knew she wasn't alone. She hoped the steam would be enough to cover the glass of the shower.

Severus watched as she stood in front of him, not bothering to cover an inch of her body. His eyes travelled up and down her curves. He took in the nipples standing erect and the goose bumps forming on her arms as the cold wind reached her skin.

"Hello?" Hermione asked, a worried note in her voice. Bloody shampoo! If only she could see! The stinging was lessening but not gone yet. She tried to move but nearly slipped and fell.

Severus watched the witch move. He wondered what was wrong – why wasn't she opening her eyes. Instinct was whispering, coursing through his blood. He could feel his erection growing. But it was wrong. This girl - woman – was in his care. He quietly closed the door, gathered his robes and disappeared to his bedroom.

He barely made it out the door when Hermione opened her eyes.

"Hello?" she asked tentatively. Weird. Maybe she was imagining things. She finished her shower and went to her bedroom to get dressed in her usual track pants and t-shirt.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Severus stumbled into his room and fell on his bed, the green velvet caressing his skin. He was painstakingly hard. It has been many years since he had this strong of a reaction to any woman. In fact, the only other witch that could get him hard without even touching him was Lily Evans.

He shook his head. He never assumed they would be sharing a bathroom. He was careless. But dammit! This was the only place in the world where it was safe enough to be careless…

When he closed his eyes, images of a naked Hermione kept playing through his head. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the throb in his loins.

He breathed deeply and tried to picture Albus naked. It usually did the trick. But as soon as he closed his eyes, he could imagine the feel of her soft skin, the water droplets hugging every delicious curve. He absentmindedly began to stroke himself.

As his strokes became more animalistic and faster, all thoughts except feeling the witch undulating beneath him fled his mind.

AN: As always thank you to my brilliant Beta – Potionmistress!

Please review – it really means so much to receive your feedback!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: These characters and scenarios belong to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 7: Ruled by Secrecy**

Hermione was peeking around a stack of books to see where to go as she moved her books to her desk. She was planning to start with the subjects she did not like so much and work her way to the subjects she really liked.

She was distracted by an odd squeak coming from the one door. As she moved closer, she heard something like grunting. Shaking her head and wondering what Snape was up to, she went to her desk and started reading on History of Magic. It was the dullest subject ever.

About half an hour later, Snape emerged, looking like he swallowed some Crumple-Horned Snorckack droppings. She looked up and continued to study. It did look as though he had more colour in his cheeks, but it might have been from those warm robes he was wearing. _Didn't he ever relax?_

Severus strode over to a cabinet and got two glasses out. Just seeing the witch made him twitch again. He poured two glasses of Firewhiskey, walked to her desk and plopped one next to her.

"Professor Snape, I'm sorry. I don't drink," Hermione stammered.

"Apprentice Granger. When we are in public you will call me Master Snape. However, when we are alone, you are permitted to call me Severus." He stood looking at her. Damn. Two more years of that smile. Two more years of torture.

"Severus, I'm sorry. I don't drink," Hermione replied through a smile.

This was madness. Severus wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. The witch was a tease. The way she said his name. Long and drawn out. She made his name sound so…. Sexy.

"Of course you do, Miss Granger. You must celebrate your new apprenticeship. Have you ever drunk something in your life?" he asked, not knowing what to expect.

"Hermione," she corrected him.

"To Hermione," he toasted her and took a sip. He was watching her expectantly.

She took the glass, hoping she could hide the fact that she would now be taking her first sip of alcohol. She tentatively raised the glass and took a swallow.

And promptly spit it out and gasped for breath.

Severus chuckled. "Slowly, Hermione."

Blushing beet red, she took another smaller sip. It warmed her throat, and she could feel the warmth fill her tummy. "Hmm… it's nice. Thank you"

Severus was shocked. The witch had never had a drink before. He suddenly felt guilty. Who was he to goad her into bad habits? He felt like a corrupting disease. Besides, what had the witch been doing with herself? He watched her as she took a book and flopped down on the couch, one leg beneath her, the other knee drawn up to rest her book on. If she wasn't so damn innocent, Severus would have told her she was a slut. Even through the track pants, he could see her curves. But in front of him, she sat, not realising how provocative she was.

"Are you going to stand all night?" Hermione asked absentmindedly as if he were one of her friends.

"Just looking for a book," he replied, searching his shelves for Macbeth. He needed something fierce tonight. But all his Shakespeare books were gone. Severus was puzzled. He took a book about magical warfare and sat down in the one chair. Albus was right, these were much more comfortable.

After some time pleasantly spent, Hermione yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Severus caught the movement and felt stirrings in his stomach as he watched the fabric of her t-shirt cling to her breast. The witch wasn't wearing a bra.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Good night, Severus," Hermione said sleepily.

_Fuck_ - Severus swore mentally. So beautifully seductive, the witch tells him she is off to bed.

"Good night, Hermione," he replied, swallowing hard. "Good night."

He downed the rest of his whiskey, got up and poured himself another glass. He should go to bed. He had the sixth and seventh years tomorrow. Luckily, it was Friday. Then, he could take the weekend to try and figure out what he was going to do about his new apprentice.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

As soon as Hermione entered her room, she fell on her bed and slept soundly. She dreamt sweet dreams and spent her night with a smile on her lips.

"Miss! Miss!" She heard something high-pitched. "Miss Hermione!"

She opened one eye. Rosie was staring at her, her nose inches from Hermione's. She yelped and sat up.

"Miss Hermione's breakfast is getting cold. Rosie bought French toasties."

"Urgh….." Hermione moaned. Her head swam when she moved.

"Miss is ill," Rosie stated and disappeared. A few seconds later, she re-appeared with a soft, damp cloth for Hermione's head. She gladly accepted it and fell back on her cushions.

"Rosie – please take away the food," Hermione murmured.

"Rosie be doing better, Miss." The food vanished along with the elf.

"Master Snape. Rosie needs help. Please wakes up." She prodded him tentatively.

Severus bolted upright, wand at the ready. He looked at the quivering elf. "What's wrong, Rosie?" he asked.'

"It's the Miss. She is gravely ill, Master Snape," the elf answered.

_The Miss? Who was the elf… ah, Hermione_. He got up and pulled a robe over his pyjamas and walked bare-footed to Hermione's room.

"Hermione?" he asked.

After hearing nothing, he went in. The room was dark. He flicked his wand, and the curtains opened.

"Nooooooooooooo! Too bright!" Hermione moaned, putting her head beneath a pillow.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked. Albus would kill him if she got ill on her first night.

"My head hurts, I'm nauseous and the light hurts my eyes," she mumbled from beneath her million pillows.

He turned around, made his way to the bathroom, opened the cabinet and took out a potion. He returned, closed the curtains and said, "Right, up you get. Swallow this," handing her a vial.

She looked at the bright blue potion with one eye. She sat up, struggled to uncork the vial and eventually got the potion in.

She felt instantly better. "What was that? A stomach bug?"

He couldn't help but smile. "That, my dear, was your fist hangover. Now, I suggest you have some French toast. And a good, strong cup of coffee."

He tried not to laugh as he made his way to the bathroom. This could be fun.

"Here is Miss Hermione's toasties and coffee. Strong coffee. Miss feels better?" the elf asked as she bustled around Hermione, setting things straight that weren't really out of order.

"Yes, thank you, Rosie," Hermione replied. She felt better now, having eaten a bit. But she was still ashamed. How could she have a hangover from one glass of Firewhiskey? People normally drank much more than that and didn't have hangovers. She would have to go look this up in the library. She got up and flew into her bathroom to see Severus standing there brushing his teeth.

He rinsed his mouth and looked at her. "Glad to see you are feeling better. After my lessons today, we will have to go to the Ministry to get your schedule for your N.E.W.T.s. I hope they give you the condensed version. Otherwise, you will be busy for a week."

Hermione was staring at Severus. "What are you doing in my bathroom?" she blurted out, sounding terribly rude, even to her own ears.

"You mean _our _bathroom," he replied with a smirk.

She blushed beautifully and turned to leave. "Let me know when you're done, please."

"Will do so, m'lady." He bowed.

Teasing Hermione was fun. He just wished he could get her out of her shell more. He didn't remember her being so shy. Where was the bloody-know-it-all? The one with the smart ass comebacks? Or did he just have a completely wrong picture of her? If he compared his stories to those of the other teachers, this quiet, docile girl was who was present in their classes. Why then, did she go to the lengths she did in his class?

This required more thinking, but he first had to face the day.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Hermione dressed in normal robes and made her way to the Great Hall. She was drawing a lot of attention with her dark purple robes. She never realised how _black_ the other robes were. She spotted Harry and Ron and went to say hello. As she approached them, she heard the whispers rise in volume as eyes followed her through the hall.

"Hi, Harry, Ron! How are you guys?" she asked.

"As good as can be expected, Hermione. You see, neither Ron nor I completed our homework last night," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Ah, Mr Potter, how is that my fault?" she said in her best professor voice. Ron looked startled, and Harry smirked.

"You weren't there to help us," he answered smugly.

"Good morning, Professor Granger," a silky voice behind her stated.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," she returned.

"Would you join me for breakfast?" he asked with a bow of the head.

"I would be delighted," she said, hooking in with his arm and walking up to the staff table.

If the whispers were loud, it was nothing compared to what they were now. As she walked to the staff table, leaving Harry and Ron swallowing air, she heard snatches. "Professor Granger…" "Since when"…"supposed to write her N.E.W.T.s Saturday"…"she will be married to a millionaire" She giggled at the last one. Honestly, the people as Hogwarts knew how to gossip.

When they reached the staff table, Minerva pointed to a seat between her and Severus. "Come sit here, my dear. It's good to have you here. I see you caused quite a stir."

"Only because she left without me. I had to think very fast to make such a sensation," Severus chipped in.

"Professor Granger, I hear congratulations are in order. Which millionaire did you seduce?" Albus asked, his eyes twinkling.

Blushing Hermione replied, "Oh, you know, the richest one!"

"Well said, my dear. Well let's get the statement out so that the students can, at least, spread the correct gossip." He stood up and tapped his glass. The Great Hall went silent

"We welcome today, a new member of staff: Professor Hermione Granger. Professor Granger has granted Hogwarts the privilege of accepting an apprenticeship to become a Potions mistress." He paused as the students asked what was to become of Snape.

"Furthermore, I am pleased to announce that Professor Snape has added his second Master Qualification in DADA. We wish both these professors the best as they embark on their new careers." He started applauding, and soon, everyone in the Great Hall was standing and cheering. The staff smiled. They saw students cheering an older student who achieved success.

Hermione smiled. She was glad she had breakfast before she came; this really was too exciting to think about mundane things such as food.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this one! I want to thank all the wonderful people who are leaving reviews –you are the ray of sunshine in my otherwise extremely cramped life. Also as always – a huge double chocolate with a cherry on top thank you to my beta - Potionmistress


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 - Excuse me?**

Hermione was ready to start her day after the fun she had at breakfast. Students were still whispering, but most pitied her because she was now stuck with Snape. Hermione wondered what would the rest of the day hold, but she wasn't too worried. So she made her way to Snape's class.

After arriving at the dungeon, she made her way to the back of the class, silently awaiting instructions from Snape.

The students filed in, no-one paying her much attention. The seventh years all sat looking glum and waiting for the professor to enter. They learned after seven years he will come in slamming the door, robes billowing, ready to take away house points from an unsuspecting student.

They weren't disappointed. He strode in, looking for a victim, found none and started to scowl even more. "Instructions are on the board. There will be no need to talk. You have an hour."

The students reluctantly started to copy the potion and a few went to gather ingredients. Hermione sat patiently waiting for Snape to give her something to do. He however was busy with some parchments on his desk, most likely marking the papers he received yesterday. She sighed.

What could she do? It wouldn't do to sit and do nothing. So she looked in her bag, found a parchment and quill when a ribbon caught her eye. She still had a letter to write. She took out her parchment and sat, chewing the back of her quill.

_Dear SS_

_I hope this letter finds you well and happy. _

_It was quite a surprise to see such lovely poetry, especially when it is one of my favourites. I adore poetry and most classic writing. I enjoy Shakespeare the most because of his use of imagery._

_Other pastimes I enjoy are listening to classical music, I prefer Mozart, but any will do. _

_I like going to the theatre to see opera's and ballets. I know it's old-fashioned, but there is something beautiful in the graceful way the ballerina moves or the notes when the soprano sings her solo for the evening._

_Hope to hear from you soon_

_Yours_

_HJG_

She reread her letter. Hermione was thoughtful. Maybe this wizard would think she was bookish and nerdy. But then, she also decided that she should be herself. There would be no use pretending to be something she was not. If he didn't appreciate her for who she was then it wouldn't work out in the end anyway. She touched the parchment with her wand, concealing her letter to look like scribbles and random notes.

Hermione looked up to see Professor Snape had just finished his marking and was now prowling the desks of the students, walking ever so silently. He really did enjoy making the students squirm. He reached the back of the class just as the bell rang.

"Bottle your samples and leave it on my desk," was all he said.

He waited for the students to leave and turned to look at Hermione with cold black eyes.

"Apprentice Granger, please enlighten me as to what you have learned from this lesson?" he asked her without even looking at her.

"Not much Master Snape," she replied. What was she supposed to learn from him sitting and marking essays while his students struggled?

"Very well then, we will continue your education after lunch." With that he turned and left her alone in the dungeon.

_Well that is odd, _Hermione thought. There was obviously more to what Snape was doing, but what she couldn't fathom.

She made her way to the Great Hall for lunch. Afterwards she would mail her letter.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Severus was quite upset as he stormed out of his classroom after his conversation with Hermione. The fact of the matter is he didn't quite know what to do with her as of yet. He couldn't let her brew from her first day; apprentices were supposed to do grunt work and made to suffer their first year. Three years of torture that is what a potions apprenticeship was.

He sighed. Because she was a full time apprentice she would only have to do two years. But even those two years seemed like an extremely long time to Severus.

And he still didn't know what to do with Hermione. Maybe she could scrub out all the cauldrons after today's lesson and catalogue the student, as well as, his private storeroom tonight. It should keep her busy until eleven. Then he could have his quarters to himself for a while.

Severus smiled. He was quite happy with his thinking. She would suffer and he would be happy.

Severus made his way to the Great Hall, a silly grin on his face. Students scattered as he walked past them, when the potions professor was smiling someone was going to get it. He sat down at the Head table, looking at his plate and wondering what he was feeling like for lunch.

While he contemplated he eyed the witch sitting next to him. She was eating and absurd muggle meal: a hamburger with chips.

_Such a child_, Severus thought, _why can't she eat something more sophisticated?_

Hermione was enjoying her hamburger immensely. She never knew the house elves could make this type of food. Normally as a student they had healthy fare, consisting of muffins and porridge, bacon and eggs, toast and jam with tea for breakfast. Lunch consisted of sandwiches, fruits and salads. Dinner was usually a roast, meatloaf and a selection of starches, but all of it extremely healthy.

The hamburger was so good Hermione had to stop herself from groaning in appreciation. But she had to remind herself that it couldn't become a habit – there was a reason people had to eat healthy.

After lunch Hermione made her way back to the potions classroom and settled in the back. This time she would watch Snape like a hawk.

His sixth year class followed the exact same pattern. She watched him the whole time. As with the previous lesson, he sat working on parchments and at the end of the lesson he walked through the class. Just as the bell rang he reached her.

"Bottle your samples and leave it on my desk," was all he said.

He waited for the students to leave and turned to look at Hermione with cold black eyes.

"Apprentice Granger, please enlighten me as to what you have learned from this lesson?" He asked her without even looking at her.

"Not much Master Snape," she replied. She really didn't know what he expected of her.

"Very well then, we will continue your education tomorrow. However, since you so blatantly do not want to learn, I want you to clean the cauldrons used by the students today. When you are finished with the cleaning, I want a complete inventory list of the student supply cupboard." He stood looking at her one eyebrow raised.

Hermione pulled up her sleeve, took her wand, and pointed it at the cauldrons: "Scourgify!"

"Apprentice Granger, your stupidity knows no bounds! Why do we not scourgify cauldrons?" he barked.

"Because we use the dirty cauldrons as punishment for students?" she tried.

If it was possible, Snape's scowl deepened: "Apprentice Granger, for a know-it-all your knowledge is severely lacking. After the cauldrons have be scrubbed _by hand, _as well as your inventory list completed, you will memorize the properties of all cauldrons as well as the impact of magical cleaning on all of the types of cauldrons. When you have realized your error of judgement, I will expect a full report on the proper use, cleaning and maintaining of all laboratory equipment. This knowledge should be captured in a report which should reach me by no later than seven o'clock tomorrow morning." He bowed and left the room.

Hermione was furious. Who did he think he was? He had her scrubbing cauldrons like a naughty first year! Well, she would show him that his silly manoeuvres won't get her down. He was just playing mind games. With a huff, she looked at the thirty odd cauldrons and started scrubbing. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
